


Your Ride Out of Town

by ratedgrandr



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: M/M, Run Away With Me AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-25 05:40:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/949276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratedgrandr/pseuds/ratedgrandr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're young, two high school graduates bright eyed and ready to take on the world. The stress from Enjolras's parents is too much, and Grantaire has no where else to go. So why not run away?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Ride Out of Town

**Author's Note:**

> Right so we all know Aaron’s infamous version of “Run Away With Me.” Well last night I found Jeremy Jordan covered it and Grant Gustin did as well. Basically over the course of two hours I listened to this song about twelve million times and I wanted an e/R fic inspired by it. So this is the prologue. It will have chapters GASP. High school graduate Enjolras has had enough of his awful parents and just needs to get out. Grantaire, his friend, isn’t about to deny him. I don’t even know anymore.

It’s evident Enjolras has been crying from the moistness of his cheeks and the redness of his eyes, and as Grantaire looks up from his computer he starts slightly, not having expected to be seeing the blond tonight.

“Is this about the debate team meeting yesterday? Look, I didn’t mean to…”

 

As Enjolras shakes his head, Grantaire figures there is a deeper seated sadness that has caused the pain in Enjolras’s gaze and he hesitates before setting aside his lap top and scooting forward on his bed. “You wanna sit?” he asks softly, his expression easy as he gestures. Enjolras is worriedly chewing on his lower lip, and Grantaire vaguely wonders if his mom or sister let the young man in. They’ve met Enjolras only a handful of times at school events but he’s never come over, and that’s why this whole visit is troubling at best.

Enjolras hesitates, taking in Grantaire’s room which is bursting with art and color and life, before finally perching himself on the very edge of the bed as if nervous the whole thing would swallow him whole if he isn’t careful. But after only a minute of adjusting and picking at his overly large t-shirt (which Grantaire realizes is Combeferre’s) Enjolras uncharacateristically scoots closer to Grantaire and leans against him, head nuzzling between his chin and shoulder, arms timidly wrapping around the cynic’s waist. It takes him off guard, and for a moment Grantaire gapes down at the full blond head of curls tucked into his body. They’ve never actually verbally admitted feelings to each other, though all of their friends knew that Grantaire would do just about anything to get Enjolras’s attention.

He must have fallen asleep at his computer and now be dreaming.

“Run away with me.”

The words are soft and vibrant, hopeful and static as they hang in the air between them for a second. They cause Grantaire to gape, which only deepens when a shy pair of fingers tangle through his. He’s silent for a moment, just staring into those wide blue eyes that have never looked so helpless before, and Grantaire knows he will do whatever Enjolras wants him to do. But he also knows they can’t just go running off. They are eighteen, for fuck’s sake, and only just graduated from high school. So instead of immediately dismissing it, Grantaire adjusts himself against his pillows and tucks Enjolras beneath his chin, his arms encircling the boy who cuddles deep into his chest and buries his nose against the crook of Grantaire’s neck. “What happened?” Grantaire breathes, words soft as his fingers tentatively brush through Enjolras’s curls. He’s never been this close to his classmate, and while he’s always hoped it may happen, the reality of it is so much better than his dreams ever had been. It’s how he knows he’s awake.

Enjolras shifts anxiously and tries to brush it off. “Nothing. I just don’t want to be in this deadbeat town anymore,” he huffs stubbornly as his lower lip juts out.

Grantaire can’t help but chuckle and roll his eyes as he presses his lips together. “C’mon, if you want to leave there’s gotta be a reason.”

There’s another expelling of breath, a shaky inhale before the words start. “I…” he stops, pressing his face into Grantaire’s vintage Queen t-shirt before carrying on. “My father found out. That I’m… that I’m gay.” R can’t help but vaguely wonder how his father ever thought anything differently considering Enjolras’s close tip-toeing of the gender line, but saying that won’t make matters worse. So he just hugs Enjolras closer, rubs soothing circles down his back, and stays silent. “He said I’m disgusting, that I… that I’m a pathetic excuse for a son and that he doesn’t want me around anymore…” the words fizzle into an awkward silence, because Grantaire knows that Enjolras’s father is an ass. He’s a big shot attorney with too much money and little will to help others, and he’s always driven Enjolras crazy.

“And my maman, she didn’t… she didn’t even say anything,” he chokes out, the tears forming again as his fingers wrap tighter around Grantaire’s shirt. “She just sat there and stared at her hands, watched him torment me, didn’t even… couldn’t even say she loved me when I left.” The tears are freely flowing now, and Grantaire hesitantly wipes them away with the pad of his thumb. “I’ve got money. We can go anywhere. I know you were trying to get into that art school out east, maybe we could… could go there. Find an apartment, get away from this hell hole,” he huffs, trying to rid his voice of the wavy tones that comes from tears. “I’m all packed. I’m not staying in that house another minute. I just can’t do it anymore. And I can’t go alone.” Enjolras has his lower lip between his teeth. He’s looking up at Grantaire with those wide blue eyes so full and brimming of hope just as they always are.

He doesn’t have the heart to remind Enjolras that it will be hard. He’s been working two jobs lately to save for college and to help his mom, and he knows. They’ve never been rich by any means, and he’s used to a life that is less than lavish. Enjolras, on the other hand, isn’t. And while he tries, while he wants the playing ground to be level, he will always have that air of an upper class child. And Grantaire loves him, really he does, but it’s not like they can just up and leave. There are things that need to be finished, ties that need to be made, and…

He’s overthinking it. And when has he ever been happy here? In fact, the more Grantaire thinks about it, the better this idea is to him. His grin slowly spreads across his face as he shrugs Enjolras off and goes to his closet, pulling out clothes and haphazardly throwing them onto the bed beside Enjolras. For a moment the other looks confused before his grin turns shy and sheepish and he curls his legs into his chest. “You’ll really go then?”

“O’Course,” Grantaire murmurs from the depths of his closet.


End file.
